


Break The Wall

by guineabees



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bad Parenting, Badass Tweek Tweak, Blood and Injury, Everyone Needs A Hug, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hospitalization, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Kenny is still Mysterion but the other boys don’t have their superhero personas, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Sad Tweek Tweak, Supernatural Elements, Supportive Craig Tucker, The boys go through a lot in this it’s gonna get angsty, but for someone who is alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28504290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineabees/pseuds/guineabees
Summary: Following the discovery of supernatural abilities, Tweek spent the majority of his teenage years feeling like a prisoner in his own home. His life is about to change dramatically when he finds out he's not as alone as he thought.(Formerly titled 'Four Walls')
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. History

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic I've decided to revive from the dead. I've edited and added quite a bit since the first time I posted it and there will be some chapters that weren't in the original. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy whether you're re-reading or reading for the first time!

A tired groan came from within the mound of blankets on the floor as Tweek's alarm clock roared to life that morning.

Tweek’s unruly hair was the first thing to spring into view from beneath the sanctuary of duvets as he slowly shifted into a sitting position. Letting the blankets fall around him in a messy pile, he stretched out his arms and felt the popping and cracking of his joints that accompanied the movement.

On the rare occasion that his parents were still home when he woke up, they would always question why he slept on the floor when he had a perfectly good bed that was probably a lot better for his back. His response was that the floor was warmer than the bed. This was partially true, since it was closer to the side of the room that his radiator was on. However, a bigger part of it was that he didn't have to worry about what may or may not be lurking in the small, dark space underneath him when he slept on the floor.

Gathering up the blankets, he threw them on the bed haphazardly. The only exception was an old, worn, hand knitted blanket from his childhood that was mostly for comfort. He kept it wrapped around his shoulders as he shuffled towards his desk. 

Being someone who forgot things quite easily and panicked at the thought of the possible consequences of losing important information, Tweek liked to leave as many visual reminders for himself as possible. Post-it notes of various sizes and colours were plastered to his desk, his computer monitor and the edges of his shelves. They were colour coded depending on their importance and ranged from reminders to do basic things like watering the plants or taking his medication, to important phone calls and emails he'd received for his parents while they were at work to ideas he'd had for song lyrics that he was afraid he would forget. Tweek placed today's notes on the desk next to his computer, knowing that would be his first stop for the day once he'd finished his morning routine.

Going about this routine had become almost automatic in the past four years, only interrupted in the event that a sudden noise from outside made him jump. Although, there was one part of every morning that he dreaded and it always arrived sooner than he was comfortable with. The moment he had to open the door and collect the newspaper from outside. It seemed like a trivial thing to stress over, but for someone who hadn't left his house very often since he was thirteen and didn't want to be spotted and have to face an onslaught of questions, it was more than a bit challenging.

Tweek sat with his ear pressed to the front door, waiting for the tell-tale sound of footsteps approaching and then fading into the distance again. Only when he was completely sure no one was out there did he take a deep breath and count to ten before quickly reaching up to pull the handle and edge his front door open. As soon as the newspaper came into view he sprinted across to snatch it from the outside world as quickly as possible before dashing back into the safety of his house and slamming the door shut again. 

He paid no mind to the clumps of snow that clung to the bottom of his trousers, slowly melting onto the carpet or the paper he clutched to his chest, creasing a little with the force of his grasp. Instead, he focused on trying to get his heartbeat to slow down at least a little. He only moved from the spot once he'd regained a shred of control over his erratic breathing.

A short while later, as he held a steaming mug of coffee in his slightly shaky grasp, Tweek wondered how his life had gotten to this point. He remembered a time when he could go outside and be surrounded by other people. His only worries would be the ones related to awkward social situations, everyday dangers like kidnappers, the potential of being trampled in a big crowd or something of the supernatural variety somehow putting his life at risk. All had been pretty legitimate fears considering his past. 

Perhaps he did have a lot of concerns back then too. Maybe what actually happened was more science-fiction than the horror-like situations his brain conjured up for him to worry over. The point still stood, though, that his life had been much less complicated back then. Sometimes he regretted that he hadn’t appreciated that time in his life enough when he was living it.

It was when Tweek was about eleven that he started to notice things changing.

As a fairly paranoid and overly caffeinated kid, his therapist had advised him to deal with his moments of panic and stress through meditation and "finding his centre". When he was younger, this had been valuable advice for him. He had taken to it quite quickly, and had soon created a whole different world in his imagination. A world he could escape to when the real one became too much and he needed to relax. It was just him and nature in this world, for a short time. Tweek could relax in a place that looked like it belonged in a painting and hear nothing but the peaceful sounds of a stream nearby and wildlife in the distance.

It was the perfect escape for a few years, that is until other people started showing up there.

It started off slowly. Once in a blue moon, a confused citizen of his hometown would wander into his subconscious, ask him a bunch of questions about where they were and how they got there, then disappear again. Tweek always told them it was a dream, partly because he thought maybe they were actually figments of his imagination and partly because he didn't want them approaching him in the real world if they were real.

Then things started to get weirder, people were showing up with increasing frequency. Their questions were replaced with confessions and troubling thoughts as they assumed that Tweek was their conscience or some sort of spiritual guide. 

Tweek tried to help as much as he could, hoping that they wouldn't come back if he did. But there was only so much he could do when he was already dealing with so much himself. He lived in a state of perpetual anxiety, worrying about pretty much everything during the day and then worrying that he might be giving people terrible advice during his dreams and meditations. Soon after, he started being dragged unwillingly into other people's dreams, daydreams and memories at completely random times.

It happened without much warning, other than a strange sensation tugging at the edge of his subconscious. People didn't seem to realise he was there when it was their subconscious he was visiting, but he still found it uncomfortable. It was almost like he was reading someone's diary or watching their home movies without permission, and it often revealed truths about people that he never wanted to know. It felt wrong. It felt like an invasion of privacy and he wished he knew how to stop it, he wished it could have ended there.

However, during one eventful shift at his parents' coffee shop when he was thirteen, he soon discovered that he was hearing thoughts that definitely didn't belong to him. Other people's thoughts were invading his brain and he wasn't even in a state of sleep or meditation, he was entirely conscious and reading the minds of strangers. He could never have anything even close to a normal life after that.

Along with his abnormal abilities also came the ever-present fear of what would happen if anyone found out he was different. When he wasn't watching someone else's dream play out or talking to yet another intruder in his own dreams, he was having recurring nightmares of being stolen away from his town, his family and everything he'd ever known. Images of him being experimented on like some kind of science project played out in his mind. He'd seen the movies and tv shows, he knew how things would go down if anyone found out he could do things like this.

He tried to carry on fooling himself and everyone else into thinking nothing had changed. He continued to attend school, work at the coffee shop and regularly went out in public. It was almost impossible to appear normal though, especially when he knew answers before the teacher had even asked the questions, knew people's orders before they had even entered the coffee shop and constantly had to stop himself from responding to things his friends hadn't said out loud. He also found himself experiencing headaches. Another side effect from the chorus of voices in his head that came with being in close proximity to large numbers of people. It was beginning to get more than a little overwhelming and something was bound to give.

One night, when he was sick and tired of hearing his dad's inner monologue about coffee and his mother's concerned thoughts about having not seen him with any friends in a while, Tweek finally snapped. 

He had slammed his hands on the dinner table, breaking the tense silence that had built up with a cry of "WOULD YOU JUST STOP THINKING FOR FIVE MINUTES?!"

He'd probably remember the looks of sheer concern and bewilderment on his parents' faces for the rest of his life, but it was like a dam had been broken and there was no stopping the words that poured out.

"Dad, I'm so sick of hearing nothing but coffee talk 24/7! If I'm not working around coffee, I'm hearing you think about it! Not only do I have to try and focus with all these strangers voices floating around in my head but I also have you thinking about different blends as a background track! I-I don't even know anymore if I actually like coffee or if I've just become brainwashed into liking it by you!" Part of him felt guilty when he heard his dad gasp and saw the hurt look that flooded his features, but he couldn't have stopped then even if he wanted to. "And mom, the reason why you haven't seen any of my friends lately is because they're going to find out how much of a freak I am if I talk to them! Who is possibly going to want to stick around when they realise how weird I am anyway?! I can hear people's thoughts mom! Who the hell is going to accept that?!"

His chest shook with harsh breaths as he finally began to calm down from his rant. He slumped back into his chair and placed his head in his hands.

It was finally out there. He'd spent all of that time and effort keeping this huge part of himself secret and now it had all been spilled in a matter of seconds. A panic began to settle in as he came to his senses and realised what he'd just done.

A traitorous voice in his head told him that he didn't know if he could trust his parents not to react badly, not to send him away for this. It wouldn't be the first time they'd done something that extreme. If he'd just told them what he could do, at least there would have been a chance they would have brushed it off as his usual paranoid behaviour. 

Tweek hadn’t done that though, he'd actually said what he could hear them thinking, he'd given them proof. On top of that he'd been way too harsh with them. They were only doing what they normally do and he'd yelled at them for it. What if they hated him after this?

He slowly and shakily looked up, taking in their surprised and hurt expressions. “Oh Jesus! I'm so sorr-"

"Don't." His dad had stopped him. Tweek sank in his chair a little at the abrupt tone thinking this was surely it, they must want him gone now. "Don't you dare apologise, son."

Tweek stared at him in silence, fidgeting a little in his seat as confusion and insecurity took hold of him. He wanted to ask what was going on, whether they were mad at him or not, but his voice just wouldn’t seem to co-operate. Looking from one parent's face to the other, he tried desperately to decipher their expressions and wondered why then of all times his ability wasn't revealing anything to him. When he'd just about given up and was feeling ready to cry and beg them not to call the government to take him away, his mom reached across the table, placing her hand delicately over his and directing a reassuring smile his way.

"You're a very special boy Tweek and we're so proud of you. After all, how many parents can say that their child is psychic?" She questioned, his dad smiling and nodding in agreement.

Tweek sat in a stunned silence. He knew his parents were a bit on the eccentric side, but he just told them he could read minds and they were acting the same way they did back when they heard those rumours about him and Craig Tucker being boyfriends.

"I thought you were just becoming a socially awkward loner," his dad had confessed dramatically, "but to think you've been dealing with so much this whole time..."

Tweek fought the urge to bang his head against the table at his dad's statement. He guessed he probably should have expected that his parents would react as if it were good news that he was practically a mutant. Although even now he had trouble believing that there wasn't a catch coming, that this wasn't just a trick to put him at ease before they frantically called authorities once he left the room. Thankfully though, his abilities chose that moment to start working again.

When his father's gleeful exclamation of _**“This is almost better than the time we found out he was gay! He can help us persuade customers to buy more coffee!”**_ entered his thoughts he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or irritated, but he decided that this had probably been the best reaction he could hope for.

"You're... really ok with this?" He questioned, still not one hundred percent believing that this was real and he wasn't just daydreaming about possible scenarios.

"Of course we are!" Mrs. Tweak responded without a moment's hesitation. "In fact, we probably should have seen this coming considering the family history."

"T-the family history?" Tweek inquired.

"You see son..." Tweek cringed as he recognised his dad’s ‘about to talk some absolute bullshit’ voice, the kind of voice that was usually reserved for a thirty minute long, mind numbing speech about locally grown organic ingredients "...your mother and I both come from very spiritual families. Your great grandmother on my side could talk to ghosts and your mother's grandfather used to have visions, didn't he honey?"

"Yes, that's true! They used to be business partners and use their combined gifts to help people.” Tweek's mom beamed, as if talking about a fond memory. “In fact, I think I have a picture of them at work. Let me go see if I can find it!” She got up from the table and quickly shuffled out of the room. 

Tweek felt an icy chill creep up his spine. The knowledge that other people in his family had abilities like this made this whole thing too real. Plus, his mom now apparently had actual, photographic evidence of them using their powers. He couldn't just chalk it up to his imagination running wild or his general lack of sleep messing with his head anymore. This was actually real and in his genetics, he was actually some kind of psychic.

"Things like this have been in our family for centuries," his dad explained, ignorant to his son's turmoil, "but less and less of us have been experiencing these gifts over the years so we were almost certain they had died out. We never would have thought our own son would turn out to be this special."

Tweek thought of this as more of an extreme inconvenience or a curse than a gift, but he wasn't about to rain on his parents' parade by pointing that out. They seemed genuinely, unnervingly ecstatic about this whole situation.

His mom hummed in agreement with his father's words as she returned. "We're so proud of you, Tweek," she stated warmly, squeezing his shoulder in encouragement. “Now you can carry on the family legacy.”

 _ **“And make us a ton of money.”**_ Both of his parents had thought in unison.

His mom leaned forward, holding a sepia colored photograph in front of his face for him to look at. In the photo were two young people wearing big grins on their faces and dressed in mystical looking robes, they stood in front of what Tweek assumed was a recently purchased store. In the store window was a sign that read ‘Have your future told or speak to a lost loved one here today! Free coffee while you wait.’ that had clearly been hand painted in big, chunky letters. 

Tweek reached out and ran the very tips of his fingers over the photo, but it was enough to give him flashes of the memory, voices from long ago.

_**“Are you sure people are going to buy this?”** _

**_“Of course they will! We’ve been fooling people with this for years. The only difference now is that we have a nice place to work from rather than having to waste time and money traveling from home to home.”_ **

**_“I guess, but -“_ **

**_“Look, the people in this town are suckers. They'll believe anything you tell them if you say it convincingly enough. The other day when I was ‘talking to a ghost’ I got the name of the client’s dead relative wrong three times and they still didn’t suspect a thing. Trust me, we’ll have plenty of customers in this town, and when word spreads, we’ll be getting customers from far and wide.”_ **

**_“I hope you’re right.”_ **

**_“I am, trust me. It’s too late to back out now anyway.”_ **

**_“I know and I do trust you. Okay, let’s do this. Let’s open our store!”_ **

**_“That’s the spirit!”_ **

**_“You would know, ghost whisperer.”_ **

**_“Oh shut up and go get behind your crystal ball. We’re gonna have a busy day today, I can feel it.”_ **

Tweek deflated. His ancestors were complete con artists, which meant that he was weird after all. But his parents seemed so excited, and he didn’t want to rain on their parade, even if their intentions didn’t seem entirely good. This whole thing could have gone much worse, but they’d at least accepted his truth, he reminded himself.

“That’s really cool,” he said through a completely false, but genuine looking smile, tapping into his acting talents to make it convincing. “I feel so much better knowing I’m not the only one, this is such a relief.”

“We’re so happy you were able to tell us, honey,” his mom smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek before leaving to return the photo to the other room.

“Yes, your mother and I are very proud of you and we’re glad that we could take away some of your worries about this,” his dad added.

After that, the dinner had continued as normal.

Tweek's mind was still racing though. If these powers weren’t actually in the family, then where the hell did Tweek get them from? Was it some sort of government conspiracy? Was there something in his water supply? Had he been bitten by a radioactive bug on a school trip when he was a child and somehow forgotten about it? 

That last one was maybe a little far fetched, but Tweek hated all of these unknowns. He just wanted answers.

Also, while Tweek was deeply relieved his parents had taken things well, he couldn't help but feel frustrated with them. 

Sometimes he felt like his parents only really cared about him or told him they were proud of him when they found out he was 'special' in some way. He wondered how things would have gone if he had been completely normal and was actually just having the usual anxiety related issues. They probably wouldn't have cared that much in all honesty. He caught his mom worrying about him every now and then, but they were both usually pretty dismissive of his worries when they weren't related to something unique like this.

His thoughts were interrupted when his dad suddenly spoke up again. "So tell me Tweek, what do our customers really think of our coffee?" he asked. Then the endless musings of which flavours would work well together and poetic descriptions of different beverages resumed.

Tweek pressed his free hand to his face in exasperation, wishing he knew how to block out thoughts he didn't want to hear. "Oh god," he groaned. He didn't know whether this was better or worse than being kicked out to be completely honest.

In the years following, Tweek found it increasingly difficult to continue as usual and stop his abilities from affecting him in public. It seemed that the harder he tried to fight back against them, the less control he had over them.

Sometimes, Tweek unintentionally creeped people out by doing things like accidentally responding out loud when reading their mind or suddenly going completely still when he got glances into someone's subconscious from accidentally brushing against their hand when taking their money. He was beginning to build up a bit of a reputation for being weird and possibly deranged. His parents, who had been all too happy to have a psychic in the family at first, began to worry that having a psychic son would backfire and the family business would lose customers.

Things were also starting to get dangerous when it came to his own health and wellbeing. It was too risky for him to be around large groups of people for long periods of time, he would get overwhelmed very quickly and start to develop migraines that made him sick for days at a time. When he blurted out things that he shouldn't know, it scared people into lashing out at him. He had come home with cuts and bruises several times from getting into fights with people at school. He had also broken down in tears the second the front door clicked behind him on more than one occasion when strangers in town had reacted badly to him warning them about something.

After several outbursts and altercations in school, in town and most unfortunately, at the coffee shop, his parents had finally decided to take drastic measures and shut him away from the outside world as much as possible. They removed him from school and found someone else to work his shifts, so he wouldn't have to be around other people as much. 

The only time he really left the house was when he was sent out on an errand like shopping or picking up deliveries for his parents when they got too busy to do it themselves. When those occasions arose he tended to rely on blasting music through noise cancelling headphones to drown out people's thoughts and distract him from their stares.

His parents still treated him as if his abilities were great and somehow made him special, but he often caught them thinking the opposite. Tweek knew that this whole thing was turning out to be a huge burden on them at times though so he never called them out on it.

Now here he was, seventeen years old and feeling a bit like a prisoner in his own house as he stood alone in the complete silence of the empty kitchen, staring down at the scaldingly hot cup of coffee in his hands. He knew his parents wanted to keep him and their livelihood safe, but he was starting to wonder if it was even worth being safe if this was the kind of life he had to live. He was alone, isolated and bored and the majority of the town probably thought he was dead or locked away in his basement or something and the few who didn't were scared of him like he was the town witch from an urban legend.

There were actually some aspects of going to work and school that he missed. He didn't miss being around so many people and he didn't miss all of the pressure and responsibilities. What he did miss though was the feeling of being productive at work, the sense of structure that going to school gave him and the few people that made the world feel a little less overwhelming. 

Tweek also really missed learning, he had hoped his parents would give him some kind of homeschooling. However, it seemed that they didn't think it was that important since they always had the family business for him to return to anyway if he ever figured out a way to stop using his powers. He tried to study as much as he could about the subjects that interested him online and he still practiced music everyday, but it wasn't the same when he knew none of it could lead to anything. It all felt a little bit pointless.

The only people he had to verbally communicate with now were his parents, and they weren't always around much anyway. It almost felt like he was living alone in a bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. Even though he knew it was for his own good, he kind of wished he could talk to some people his own age. He'd stopped responding to people a little while after his departure from mainstream education, mainly because he didn't want them to become targets if anyone wanted to get to him, but also because he didn't really have anything interesting to share with them anymore. Most of his former friends had given up on trying to get any form of communication from him after getting little to no response for so long. 

There was one exception, but it was probably only a matter of time until they stopped too.

The rattling of the letter box caught his attention and he carefully placed his coffee down to go and inspect the source of the noise. His family didn't get that many letters so a small part of him worried every time that it would be a note from the government telling him that the jig was up and they were coming to take him for experimentation. Although to be fair they probably wouldn't waste their time sending a letter out to warn him when they could just break the door down and be done with it. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that seeped into him - right down to his bones - every single time.

His entire being filled with relief when he saw the corner of a Polaroid picture sticking out of the letter slot instead. A small smile tugged at his lips as he removed it and held it as gently as he could in his shaky grasp.

He couldn't help grinning when he saw the picture. It was an extremely unflattering photograph in which of one of his old friends, Clyde Donovan, seemed to have had the entire contents of his lunch tray tipped over him. He turned the picture to see if there was a message and sure enough there was yesterday's date followed by the words 'guess which idiot tried to grab the wrong girl's butt' scribbled down in Craig Tucker's unmistakable handwriting.

An involuntary laugh escaped Tweek’s lips and he shook his head at his friend's foolishness. Clutching the photograph tightly, he rushed back upstairs to add it to the growing collection of Polaroids stuck to his bedroom wall before he forgot.

Craig was the only one of Tweek's friends who still hadn't given up on him. Ever since it started to sink in that Tweek wouldn't be making an appearance any time soon, he'd been sending him these small snapshots of the things Tweek didn't get to see in person. Most of them were of his classmates, candid shots captured when they were up to their usual ridiculous shenanigans. Some were of Craig and his family and pets, but every so often there would be something different and a little more emotional.

The pictures that he both looked forward to and dreaded were the ones with more sentimental subjects; pictures of places they used to hang out, pictures of the sunset or sunrise, pictures of clouds or stars. Those pictures always came with messages that made his chest ache, messages like 'look what you're missing out on', 'wish you were here', 'where are you?' and 'I miss you'.

Tweek had kept those ones safe in an album he’d begged his parents for one Christmas. He wouldn’t admit it, but every now and again when he felt like torturing himself, he’d look through them and cry.

Craig wasn't a person who let others have an insight into his emotions that often, so Tweek knew those ones must not have been easy for him to send. Not because he was cold or mean as a lot of people suspected, but because he was awkward and wasn't entirely sure how to express himself properly. Thinking about it, Tweek's strange abilities were probably why they'd gotten on so well. Tweek didn't often criticise him for the way he acted like other people did because he already knew what Craig had been thinking or feeling most of the time anyway.

They'd stopped going out years ago now. Tweek had felt like he had too much going on to be able to keep up with their relationship and he was constantly worried about something bad happening to Craig because of him. So as much as he didn't want to, he eventually gathered the courage to explain to Craig that he wasn't in the right place for a relationship.

Fortunately, Craig had been understanding about it. Craig had seen the way people had been treating Tweek and how it had been affecting him and he was upset, but he knew that Tweek had needed a supportive friend more than anything else at that time in his life. They had still been very close… or at least they were before Tweek had disappeared off of the social radar. 

Tweek had frequently heard thoughts from Craig that made his chest hurt. When he’d been attacked and Craig was pressing ice to a swollen eye, he’d think _**“You still look beautiful.”**_ When Tweek was overwhelmed and on the verge of another breakdown, he’d hear the quiet repetition of _**“You can do this, you’ve got this, you’re so strong, you’re capable of anything.”** _

Then there were the heart wrenching confessions like: **_“I still love you, I wish you’d let me be there for you”_**. Those were the thoughts that almost broke Tweek, that almost had him blurting out that he still loved Craig too. But he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t drag Craig into this mess, Craig deserved so much better than that.

They'd spent so much time together when they were younger though, that even now - when they hadn’t spoken in years - it seemed impossible for them to stop caring about how the other was doing. Craig clearly wasn't willing to give up hope of him returning just yet and Tweek wasn't sure whether that made him feel incredibly happy or devastated. He knew that Craig had struggled a lot when they were younger and he hoped that he was at least content with his life now and not still hurting or waiting on someone who was quite possibly never going to return.

Tweek knew it was selfish of him to wish that the pictures never stopped, to hope that someone out there would still remember him, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't be around his friends anymore because he didn't want them to have to deal with shit from other people by association and he certainly didn't want to face the possibility of them reacting badly if they found out what he could do. Plus there was still the idea that plagued his thoughts more than anything, that somehow undeniable proof of his abilities would get out and him and the people he cared about would no longer be safe. Still, more than anything else, Tweek wished that he could talk to one of them again or even just see one of them again, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

Tweek was tired of hiding.


	2. Mysteries Unfolding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> I changed the name from 'Four Walls' to 'Break The Wall' because it's one of my favourite songs by my favourite group and the lyrics are pretty fitting to the theme. If you want to give it a listen, you can do so [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T4tJ4aofRBg)

Unlike most citizens of South Park, Tweek wasn’t oblivious to some of the stranger goings-on that occurred every so often in the not-so-quiet mountain town.

Tweek could tell when information was being hidden. It was one of the few advantages of his abilities, but he liked to think he was pretty clued in on things before that came into play. He’d spent most of his life reading up on conspiracy theories and he had always been pretty confident in his ability to sense when things weren’t quite what they seemed. So without even having to use his abilities, he was at least ninety percent certain that there was something unusual about Kenny McCormick.

Tweek had been keeping an eye on him for a while now. He tuned in whenever the news did a story on Mysterion and searched youtube in his free time for shaky video clips of the superhero at crime scenes or in the middle of fights that had been captured by shocked witnesses. Tweek hadn’t told anyone about his almost obsessive observation, but he had constructed a pretty substantial list of theories and reasons why Kenny might be different in the same way he was.

His interest in the superhero had actually started back when he was in elementary school, before Coon and Friends had even been a thing. At the time he’d been drawn in by the challenge of figuring out his real identity as much as everyone else in his school had. The widespread curiosity eventually died down once the other boys started playing superheroes too and everyone knew who he was. Tweek’s interest picked back up again when the hero’s real abilities began to surface, as he started to notice little things about the masked boy that bothered him.

It seemed that there were always points in Mysterion’s fights where it looked like he was completely done for, moments where he was injured or took a fall and failed to get back up. They were always caused by strikes or injuries that could easily be fatal. But somehow, Mysterion always ended up winning. 

In fact, there were times he could vaguely remember seeing reports of Mysterion dying, but when he’d looked for them again he couldn’t find them. He’d assumed that maybe he just imagined those instances, but there was a nagging feeling that told him that wasn’t true.

Tweek tried to tell himself not to be silly, that it was impossible that Kenny had died when he was out there fighting crime as Mysterion again the next day. He couldn’t help feeling like a bit of a hypocrite though considering that he himself was a walking impossibility. It didn’t really work anyway because the more Tweek saw, the more sure he became that Kenny had some kind of power.

Tweek didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but the idea that someone out there might understand what he was going through did make him feel a lot less alone. It was this that fueled his determination to keep watching in hopes of finding some solid evidence.

At times, when being stuck in the same place for so long had Tweek feeling a little trapped, he considered just going out and running wild with his own powers. Inevitably he decided that was a bit too dangerous for his liking so he decided to leave crime fighting alter egos to the experts and people with death wishes. Sometimes though, he liked to imagine a world where people didn’t think he was crazy, creepy or annoying and he actually made a difference.

So far the only thing he had to prove he wasn’t imagining everything was a sketchbook full of unfamiliar faces he’d seen in his subconscious. He was pretty good at art and had decided to use his skills to document the things his powers had shown him.

On the rare occasion his parents allowed him to go run an errand for them, he’d actually caught glimpses of some of the people he’d drawn, so he officially knew it wasn’t just his overactive brain making up things that didn’t exist. He didn’t know if he should be happy about that or if he would have prefered finding out he was just seeing things at this point, but he continued drawing people anyway, partially out of boredom and partially because something told him it might be useful one day.

He was in his living room, just finishing off the shading on the nose of someone he’d spoken to in a dream the night before, when an urgent news report flashed on the TV screen. Tweek placed the sketchbook down next to him and turned the volume up a little before leaning in closer.

It was pretty run of the mill at first, some person had been causing havoc, trying to start riots and so on. Then things took a turn for the slightly more sinister as security footage revealed the person breaking into the mayor’s office earlier that day. They were dressed pretty normally, in jeans and a hooded jacket, probably to avoid causing any suspicion, but the mask covering the lower half of their face still ensured that their identity was hidden.

Tweek watched in shock, his eyes wide and frantic as he witnessed the Mayor being carried out of her office unconscious. The masked man turned to look straight into the security camera and a furious pair of eyes stared out at the viewers. “You can have your Mayor back,” he spat, “as soon as you give me my daughter back!”

Before Tweek even had time to process what he’d seen, he could feel a familiar tug at his subconscious. Involuntarily, he slipped into the not entirely present state that came just before being dragged into someone else’s mind. He blinked forcefully, willing the sensation to pass, but it was too late.

Muffled voices gradually became clearer in Tweek’s mind the further he slipped away, voices from wherever the person whose mind he was about to inhabit was. Tweek tried his best to fight the sensation of being pulled away from his surroundings, but he couldn’t stop it. His body fell limp, slumping back against couch cushions he could no longer feel as he lost the ability to control his limbs. His eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier and - despite his efforts to force them to stay open - they gradually closed.

That was the worst thing about experiencing this when he was awake, he hated not having control of his own body, especially since it was one of the few things he actually had any control over anymore. For those few seconds where he struggled against the pull, Tweek felt like a prisoner in his own head. It was like experiencing sleep paralysis without the going to sleep part. Anyone could walk in, anything could happen and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to protect himself. It terrified him.

When he opened his eyes again his surroundings were completely different. It was cold, dark and unfamiliar. But this time, something was different.

This person was fully awake. Tweek had never entered another person’s subconscious while they were awake before. He was used to seeing people’s dreams and memories play out in front of him, but right now he could tell he was seeing what the other person was seeing in real time. He could feel the chill in the air around him, touching skin that wasn’t his, he was uncomfortably aware of the person’s heartbeat and how it wasn’t like his own - heart issues, probably as a result of aging and perhaps a smoking problem if the ever so slightly laboured breathing Tweek could feel was anything to go by.

Tweek had never known how to feel about the fact that he could play witness to people’s dreams, thoughts and memories. It felt wrong, like he was intruding on something extremely personal. This felt different though. It felt like he’d been shoved into a body that didn’t fit him, one that he couldn’t control. It felt like someone had dragged him along on an adventure he didn’t want to be on and he had no choice but to just watch events unfold.

Nothing about this felt right. Aside from being trapped in a stranger’s body, the room was incredibly dark and cold and it seemed like there was more dust in the atmosphere than breathable air. The only source of light in the room was an almost burnt out candle on a table in the corner and even that was barely providing any illumination.

As he took in as much of his surroundings as possible, Tweek realised that he could sense the presence of someone else in the room. Tweek often worried about being watched by someone he couldn’t see, so he was almost immediately able to identify the weight of someone else’s gaze upon him. While Tweek knew that he wasn’t actually the person being looked at, he still felt the urge to shrink away. He found himself wishing he could have control of this person’s body so that he could look for the source of the stare, but that would definitely raise more ethical concerns and conflicting feelings in him.

Tweek didn’t have much time to dwell on this though. He heard someone shift around a little and a noise that sounded suspiciously like the rattling of metal chains moving against each other. Then the other occupant of the room spoke up. 

“Where have you taken me?” a voice questioned, firm and confident, but with the tiniest hint of uncertainty that suggested the speaker was only putting on a brave face. Tweek registered the voice as both female and familiar.

“Somewhere no one will ever think to look,” a voice answered from within the body he was currently occupying, startling him slightly as he hadn’t been expecting it to feel so strange and sudden.

“I highly doubt that,” the woman contested. “My colleagues and the police will look everywhere they possibly can. Not one stone will be left unturned. This town needs me and they won’t stop until they find me.”

“Oh really? Is that true Mayor?” his guy’s voice contested. “How many people do you think will even remember that this town even has a library let alone think to check its basement? Nobody has been here in at least a decade. Even the librarian just sits in their car outside smoking weed all day. I know, I’ve been scoping this place out for weeks. It’s the perfect hiding place, the one place in town that everyone overlooks.” There was a pause and a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the room before he continued. “Besides, I don’t plan to keep you here for long. If I don’t get what I want by next Monday, I’m going to kill you. I’m done trying to get through to you.”

 _ **‘Holy shit! I’m in the body of a criminal!’**_ Tweek thought as the situation started to click and it dawned on him that he must be occupying the brain of the kidnapper from the news report. Something was off though. This man didn’t feel as angry as he looked and acted, if Tweek didn’t know better he’d say it actually almost felt like the kidnapper was scared.

“For the last time, I can’t give you your daughter back!” The mayor snapped. “She was at risk of putting everyone’s lives in danger and we had no choice but to step in and report her to the authorities,” she explained desperately. “I can’t possibly get her back because I’m not allowed to know where they took her. Hell, I’m not even allowed to know what state she’s in!”

Tweek began to wonder what was going on here. Who was this man? and what had his daughter done that was bad enough to warrant her being taken away? What if she had been like Tweek and they’d taken her away for experiments? He knew that was unlikely, but after seeing one too many X-Men movies and episodes of Heroes, he couldn’t help being paranoid that there might be more people out there with powers and that the government might be keeping an eye on them, ready to strike when they least expect it.

A glimpse of metal in the darkness distracted Tweek from his train of thought and - paired with the sensation of cold metal against his palm and fingers - he realised that this man was holding a gun. 

“Well, you better hope those higher ups decide to spill some information for your sake,” he stated, pressing the gun to her head, “because if they don’t, I-I’ll be spilling your blood.”

Tweek hadn’t missed the slight trembling in the man’s voice or shake in his hand as he held the gun. He didn’t think this man actually wanted to kill anyone. He actually just seemed desperate, afraid and lost, like he had run out of options and this was the only other thing he’d been able to think of. In an effort to make sure that his daughter was safe, he had ended up letting his actions get way out of hand. Tweek almost felt sorry for the man, like he could understand his pain. But that didn’t stop the rush of relief he felt when he saw the hand with the gun drop away from the Mayor’s head and the distance between them grew greater as he slowly backed away.

Tweek shot back into his own body so quickly that he felt dizzy. It was like his subconscious was an overstretched elastic band snapping back into place. He gasped a little, feeling winded by the sudden change, breathing heavily as he took in his surroundings and confirmed that he was in fact back in his own living room. 

“Jesus Christ!” he gasped, pressing a hand against his forehead. “What the fuck was that?”

His gaze snapped back to the tv screen as he heard the news reporter add a final piece of information. “If anyone has any information on any of the stories on tonight’s program, they are instructed to contact either the police or Mysterion immediately. That’s all for the local news for now, we'll be back at ten with the latest headlines from across the globe.”

“I’ve gotta tell someone about this,” Tweek mumbled to himself. 

He stood up from the couch and began to pace as he weighed his options. He knew that going to the South Park police was probably a bad choice. Aside from the fact that they were inept at best and a danger to the general public at worst, they would probably either laugh at him or suspect him if he told them what he knew. It would look suspicious if someone who had barely been seen in public in years suddenly turned up at the doorstep of the precinct with all of the information the police needed except for the exact identity of the kidnapping suspect. 

So that just left Mysterion. Tweek had to talk to Kenny. He could do that. 

He could try at least.

God, he already felt nervous.

“All I have to do is tell him what I saw. I just have to tell him she’s being kept at the library,” Tweek tried to reassure himself. Full of nervous energy and still pacing, he absentmindedly picked at the sleeve of his shirt as he did so. “Then I can just forget this whole thing happened and go back to laying low and staying safe a-and… feeling completely trapped and alone.” 

He sighed, stopping in his tracks and dropping back down onto the cushions of the couch. Running a hand through his hair and pulling at a few strands at the nape of his neck, he stewed in the hopeless feelings that enveloped him.

On the one hand, Tweek didn’t miss tests or homework or all the drama that came with being surrounded by other teens on a daily basis. In all honesty he had actually been kind of thankful to have a break from all of the pressure at first. On the other, being alone in an empty house every day should have been his dream scenario, but in reality it just made him feel suffocated and more than a little claustrophobic. 

Also, he missed doing something productive, he missed the structure that came with a school day and having set goals. Learning from articles and videos just wasn’t the same, it was hard to focus and retain the information. And to top it all off, he missed his friends, he missed being around people who understood what it was like to feel like everything around them was just a little fucked up and their parents didn’t seem to care.

“Who are you talking to sweetie?” a voice suddenly called from the kitchen doorway. 

Tweek was so on edge that he jumped and let out what could only be described as a squawk before clutching his shirt as he tried to calm his heartbeat and figure out how breathing worked again. He whipped his head around to see his mother staring back at him, a vaguely concerned look on her face.

“Um, n-no one mom,” he answered. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“Ok hun,” his mom answered, undeterred by what she considered to be the boy’s usual erratic behaviour. “Well, your dad and I have just put dinner out if you want to come join us.”

“Ok mom,” Tweek answered, waiting until his mother left the room before standing up shakily and willing himself not to trip on the way to the table as he got used to being in control of his limbs again.

Sitting in silence, Tweek pushed his food around the plate with trembling hands as he pondered how he would get in contact with Kenny. Using the Mysterion hotline number the news network provided was out. That was a public number for a phone that was no doubt being recorded and monitored by the town hall and he couldn’t have them listening in just in case he said something weird and accidentally implicated himself. 

That presented another issue though: Tweek didn’t have contact details for anyone he had gone to school with and his mom and dad had started checking up on him whenever he used the internet anyway because of fear mongering news reports they’d seen about trolls and the possibility of technology brainwashing people. 

This meant he might have to go to Kenny’s house in person. However, Tweek wanted to make sure the information got to him that night, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if the kidnapper decided to act earlier than planned and the mayor was killed before he could stop it. That would mean sneaking out though, and that would be a challenge. Even if his parents weren’t always that vigilant, Tweek wasn’t exactly that capable of being subtle when he was under pressure.

Tweek eventually came to the conclusion that maybe he should give up on that idea altogether and just ask them for permission. A decision that he didn’t have a lot of time to deliberate over as his father chose that moment to notice his behaviour.

“You ok there, son?” his dad asked. “Picking up radio waves or just thinking?” he added, laughing a little at his unfunny joke.

“Just th-thinking,” Tweek replied. He tried to calm his nerves before he asked the question, but that wasn’t getting him anywhere. So he decided to scrap that approach and just ask as quickly as possible. “CanIgotoKenny’shouse?” he blurted.

Fortunately, Tweek’s parents had gotten pretty good at the art of translating his rapid, anxious speech patterns over the years, so he didn’t need to repeat himself. Unfortunately, their faces both displayed the same ‘our son is being weird again’ expressions that they wore whenever they were about to shoot down something that he said and write it off as him having an eccentric moment.

“Go to Kenny’s house?” his mom questioned. “Tweek, honey, there’s no need for that. We don’t take coffee deliveries from those people anymore, remember?”

“I-I know, that’s not why I want to go over there,” Tweek explained, his voice strained as he could already sense that he was about to leave the conversation feeling frustrated. “I just w-want to go talk to Kenny.”

His parents shared a look before sighing and looking back at Tweek, their eyes filled with pity. Tweek wanted to crawl under the table and hide from those expressions. He didn’t want their pity, it always felt kind of forced and insincere. It was always the kind of look they directed at him when they were going to say something or ask him to do something he wouldn’t like.

“It’s a Friday evening Tweek,” his dad explained, as if he didn’t already know that. “Town is going to be busy and this is not like when we send you to do a quick task for us. We don’t want you wandering around out there, exposed to all of those people for too long.”

“B-but this is really reeeally important,” Tweek stressed. “And it won’t take long at all, I promise.”

His dad sighed, his expression morphing from concern to irritation and impatience. 

“Look son, I know this situation is not ideal for you, it’s hard for us too. Your mom and I have had to hire someone to do all the things you used to do and it’s costing us more. Plus, we now have to do a lot of the errands you used to do ourselves.” 

Tweek’s mom rested her chin in her palm while his dad spoke and Tweek felt a wave of regret from her. Although, he couldn’t tell what it was she regretted.

“It’s what we’ve had to do though, to protect the family business. For where else in South Park will people get their fresh, locally brewed coffee; fresh like the breeze on a summer afternoon and expertly blended with a variety of flavours for the ultimate coffee drinking experience?”

“Dad!” Tweek groaned, grabbing fistfulls of his hair. “Can I p-please just go out this one time? It’s important I swear!”

“Oh I’m sure it’s not that urgent Tweek,” his dad replied dismissively. “It’s not like it’s a matter of life and death or anything.”

“But it is though!” Tweek argued. “Someone will die if I don’t do this!”

“I’m sure that whatever you need to tell Kenny can wait until the next time your mom and I see him at the coffee shop,” his dad insisted. “What was it you wanted to tell him?”

Tweek sighed, already knowing that he probably wasn’t about to be taken seriously. 

“The mayor is being kept chained up in the basement of the local library and her kidnapper is planning to kill her on Monday if he doesn’t get what he wants.”

His parents stared at him, bewildered, for all of five seconds before they both laughed.

“Oh Tweek, you have such an active imagination,” his mom commented.

“Now eat your dinner before it goes cold, son,” his dad instructed.

Just as Tweek predicted, they didn’t believe him even though they knew what he could do. Sometimes his parents wouldn’t believe anything until the evidence was placed right in front of them. They must have seen his disappointed look though because their gazes softened.

“We’re doing this because we care about you,” his mom tried to explain. “Maybe one day if you can learn to control this thing better you can go out more often, but for now it’s safer for you to stay here.”

Tweek felt a little guilty for putting his parents through all of this. He knew they meant well and he knew it had been hard on them to see him come home with injuries from defending himself against people who didn’t like him being different, especially after things had just been starting to look up for them back when he’d been one half of the town’s favourite couple. Sometimes Tweek wished he could be normal just so that they could rely on him to do things without panicking or acting weird in public. It probably wasn’t easy knowing that so many people thought your child was some kind of freak.

“I understand,” Tweek assured them. “I’m s-sorry.”

“That’s ok son,” his dad answered, and they all went back to eating in silence.

Later that evening, Tweek found himself pacing again, in his room this time. Somehow, he managed to avoid clutter with expert precision. He had tried to distract himself, but it wasn’t working. Just doing nothing was eating away at him. What could he do though? He didn’t have Kenny’s phone number or access to the internet.

Even if he could contact the other boy, he was pretty sure a ‘Hey, I know I hardly spoke to you that much and I disappeared off the face of Earth, but Mayor McDaniels is being held hostage in the basement of the library, could you please save her? p.s. Don’t ask how I know this, I just do.’ would not go down well and would look all kinds of suspicious on his part. It would definitely be better if they could somehow talk in person so that he could explain everything.

He could try sneaking out, but that would have to involve him finding a way out through one of the upstairs windows. Plus his parents would most probably check on him now that he’d made a bit of a scene at dinner, so that option was also out.

That left him back at square one with nothing.

He was beginning to feel more than a little agitated and was about five seconds away from a small breakdown when the wall of polaroids caught his eye. For some reason he found himself being drawn towards it, almost as if someone had thrown an invisible lasso around his waist and was now dragging him forwards.

A faint ringing met his ears. As if he was approaching town on a busy day, he could hear the hum of several conversations in the distance. With each step he took towards the pictures, the noise grew louder, until it sounded more like his memories of being at school in a crowded lunch hall, when everyone was trying to talk over each other.

Tweek suddenly had a very strong feeling that these polaroids held the solution to his problem. He cast his glance over the numerous pictures he’d accumulated crossing one arm over his stomach and tapping his chin with the other as his brain worked overtime to figure out how exactly this was going to help him and which one it was that was calling out to him.

The combined voices grew louder and louder and he shakily lifted his hands to against his ears even though he knew that wouldn’t help.

There was a time when things like this used to freak him out. Tweek vaguely remembers having a panic attack the first time he glanced at something and it pulled him into a flashback of someone else’s memory. It still scares the shit out of him when inexplicable things happen sometimes, right now though he didn’t have time to stress out about it. He was on a mission to figure out what the fuck these pictures had to do with his situation.

His eyes scanned over each polaroid meticulously, checking the contents of each picture. When he reached the top right corner the voices came to a sudden halt and his eyes narrowed in on the picture there.

Kenny McCormick.

The blond boy was staring back at him with a broad smile on his face. He that trademark look in his bright blue eyes that gave off the feeling he knew something everyone else didn’t, that he’d seen things no one his age should see. Tweek briefly wondered if his eyes held that same look now after all the things he’d witnessed, but he concluded that he probably just looked tired more than anything else.

Standing on tiptoes, Tweek reached up to pluck the photo off the wall, being careful not to take the paint off the wall with it. On further inspection, Tweek noticed that sure enough, the background was the high school cafeteria. He also recognised Kyle sitting beside Kenny, looking like he had been in the middle of a lengthy explanation when Craig had captured the image.

Turning the picture over. He read the words ‘Had to spend lunch with these losers. They’re not the absolute worst though I guess.’ in Craig’s messy handwriting. He flipped it back over again and stared at the picture, his brows furrowing in confusion.

He didn’t often get glimpses of other people’s memories from inanimate objects and when he did, it was usually the memories of people who had passed. There was one vase in his living room that had been passed down through generations of his family and he avoided it specifically for that reason. Sometimes he would get it with objects from people who were still living though if those objects had a significant story to tell or piece of information to give him. 

If this is what the voices had led to, then that meant what he was hearing was echoes from what he assumed was Craig’s memories. With that thought an idea hit Tweek like a ton of bricks.

Tweek had never tried to use his powers on purpose before. He had spent so much time fighting against them and trying to make them stop that he had no idea if he even could do that. However, if Craig still somehow had a subconscious connection to his photos, there was a chance that Tweek could try and use that to establish some kind of link. If he could achieve that, he might be able to project thoughts Craig’s way or possibly even bring him into his mind space to talk to him. That way, he could give the message to Craig and Craig could pass it on to Kenny, who would put on his Mysterion outfit and go save the day.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but he decided it was better than nothing and at least worth a try.

Tweek took the polaroid with him and sat on the bed, staring at it for a good few minutes as he tried to figure out how exactly he was going to do this. It was all well and good to theorise that he could potentially communicate this way, but thinking about actually putting it into practice terrified him.

Even if he could get in contact with Craig this way, what the heck was he going to say to him? ‘Sorry I’ve ignored all of your attempts to talk to me for the past few years, but I need you to pass on a message to Kenny for me’? Tweek knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. He bit his lip as he thought about it. What if Craig was angry with him? Even worse, what if Craig was upset or disappointed?

Tweek shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts. He couldn’t think like that right now, someone’s life was at stake. That didn’t stop a tight ball of anxiety from welling up in his chest though as he crossed his legs and straightened his back, assuming his meditating position.

Exhaling a shaky breath and closing his eyes, Tweek began to focus on the image in his mind, trying to imagine the sights, sounds and smells of the cafeteria on a busy day. He imagined the squeaks of trainers against tile and the buzz of chatter that he had heard previously. He imagined Craig interrupting the flow of conversation with a flash of his camera and he imagined Kenny being ready with a winning smile and Kyle being caught off guard. His thoughts were running wild with little details like the colour of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and the glare of the fluorescent lights that hung above them.

There was a brief moment where Tweek worried that this wasn’t going to work, that he had overthought it and now nothing was going to happen. He had opened his eyes again, ready to admit defeat, but the sight that greeted him wasn’t his cluttered bedroom.

Tweek felt like he was in a daze as he took in his environment, turning on the spot to make sure he was actually seeing things right. The view that he was met with was without a doubt a school cafeteria, but it was almost as if it had been frozen in time. The students and staff were completely still, stuck in a variety of mid-activity poses, and it was eerily silent with the exception of Tweek’s footsteps as he inspected the new surroundings from his spot in the center of the room.

His nerves were all over the place at this point as he slowly maneuvered his way through the human statues and tried to find the awkward, tall brunette he had been hoping to speak to.

“Oh no! Oh Jesus! W-what if I’ve messed this whole thing up and now I’m stuck here f-for the rest of m-my life?” he mumbled, his whole body shaking. “W-what if Craig is here somewhere too and I got us both trapped here and he’s going to h-hate me forever?! Oh God, this is way too much pressure!”

“Hello?” a voice called out, bringing his ramblings to an abrupt halt. 

The voice sliced through the silence and echoed off the walls of the building, causing Tweek to jump. He frowned in confusion as he realised that the voice seemed a bit high pitched and not really nasal enough for the person whose memory he assumed this would be and who he assumed he’d be speaking to. Nevertheless, Tweek inhaled a calming breath as he turned to walk in the direction the voice had come from.

Clenching his fists, he summoned the courage to call out. “C-Craig?” he shouted, “is that you?”

A small chuckle responded to his question as he shuffled his way around a group of bullies and the person they had been in the middle of tripping up, their faces frozen in mocking expressions. 

“Not quite,” the voice answered teasingly.

Tweek ducked under a lunch tray that had been frozen mid flight and when he stood back up he came face to face with the table he had been looking for. Only one occupant that was as present as he was. 

“Kenny?!” he questioned.

“The one and only,” Kenny grinned, shooting Tweek a wink. “Hey Tweek, long time no see.”

Tweek found himself unable to respond as he openly stared at the other boy. He couldn’t believe this. Not only had he managed to control one of his abilities for the first time ever, but he also managed to get to the actual person he had needed to speak to rather than having to pass the message along. Had Kenny ended up here simply because Tweek willed it? He couldn’t help but gawk at the other boy as he tried to comprehend the idea, but thankfully Kenny either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. 

This was like a revelation for Tweek, that he might have more control over what happens in these spaces than he thought. Maybe he could change the things that happened in the dreams if he stopped fighting and leaned into his powers. It was something he would definitely have to test out some day soon.

Kenny soon caught on that Tweek was struggling to find his words and filled the silence himself.

“Now, I don’t know if I fell asleep or if this is some kind of bizarre out of body experience, but I’ve gotta say that...” he pointed at Clyde, who was sat to his left with his mouth wide open mid-chew and a half finished burrito in his hand “... is extremely attractive.” He continued to stare at him for a second and poked him in the cheek a few times before turning to address Tweek again.

Kenny gave Tweek a few seconds to respond before deciding that his attempt at an icebreaker had fallen flat and he would probably be better off just cutting to the chase. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands.

“So… what brings us here, stranger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually my authors notes are almost as long as my fics, but for some reason I can't think of anything to add on this. Just I really love writing this fic and I hope you enjoy reading it. Also, these are scary times so stay safe and stay healthy!
> 
> Oh! Also, I'm working on a poly fic with Tweek, Craig, Kyle and Kenny as an OT4 and I'm wondering whether to set it in high school or not because I know the sp fandom is flooded with high school aus and most of my other fics are already set in high school. If you have any thoughts, I'd be happy to take them on board.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this first chapter! I'm glad to be back so far.


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